Yesterday was the day....

 Yesterday was the day, today is my first without you in over 16 years, and your story has ended and so has this.

Goodbye my heart.

Today is not the day........

I leaned in close to your white face, kissed your nose and inhaled. This morning the smell of your fur was mixed a little with the smell of your accident, where your aging legs betrayed you and caused you to slip in the mess you made. Not the best smell, but I did not mind the kiss on the nose and the smell of your fur is not a memory, but a state of being, its home.  You have rarely had accidents and only when sick and each time you lowered your head when it was discovered and you walked away. My eyes get misty and that is when the steam hits my face and I realize I turned the shower on for my temperature and not for you, I adjust the handle so the water can cool then return to stroking the clean areas of your coat, tears come to the surface again.

I shake them off, and look you in the face, “I need to stop, today is NOT the day.” The voice in the back of my head, surrounded by the black cloud, whispers, “No, not today, but soon it will be.”

“We don’t know that, do we?” I say as I lift you into the tub. You have already lived life that has defied expectations. You were so young when we started your training, as we wanted you to have the best and if you wanted to do therapy work we could as a team. After talking not just to one, but several experts we knew the training would not start until you matured a bit. Goldens, they are great for the work, but need to be puppies and grow up a bit and after three tends to be the best time to start advanced training.

I was so nervous that first night after we were surprisingly admitted and you are a mere fourteen months of age. There you were there, showing better manners than pups twice or more your age. I tried to not get too ahead of myself, but in a few short months we would be testing and then registered and before we knew it we would be visiting. You were only two and a full year younger than we expected you would begin training, but instead we were at the hospital and working. 

You took to the work in an almost supernatural way, while we helped you learn to walk on strange surfaces, be around weird smells, odd equipment, large buildings, on elevators and slippery surfaces and to go up and greet your person calmly, quietly and without your tongue or against your instincts an awkward sniff. You already knew who in a crowd needed you most, which of the shy and standoffish ones would find comfort in your coat and at the most intimate of times when to depart before they left. You knew that, and not in many lifetimes with full time dedicated study do I think I could not only learn how, but how to teach another, that was just you. I loved the work, and working with you. I wanted more to do it, so I told a story or two to help others, learned to teach others and evaluate as well. All because of you.

At home, we let you be a bit naughty sometimes and we allowed, such a hard working pup does need some down time. You helped us help other dogs who needed to find their home and you always chose me, and I felt so lucky, still do, but Mom needed someone to choose her so little brother came home. You ‘tolerated’ him at first, but then when we weren’t looking you started looking for him and you for him.

Time seemed to fly and in no time, he joined us too, while his primary job was not the same as yours he did therapy too. Working together, the four of us, lives in the highlight reel of my life, and it always will.

In a blink of an eye, it was time to retire. You were 11, still wanted to go, but wanted each visit shorter. I knew it was time, but harder than keeping my nerves steady on day one was keeping the tears back on the last day. The better part of a decade you had served our community, the work you did, and the impact it had I will never be fully able to comprehend and I was happy to be along for the ride. You more than deserved a quiet retirement and while there were tears it was also fear of, “Did I wait too long?’ “Would he get a couple years?” The calendar was no longer in your favor and I felt its weight on making sure you had time to be ‘just a dog’. I never thought in my wildest dreams that four and half years would pass and you would still be here. I am still thankful that we chose the date we did. We were able to do one last visit, just the four of us, and it was as magical as the first time we worked as a family. It would be just a few months later that the world would pause and we would not have been given the choice or the option to leave that part of your story the way we did.

In just a little over a month from the time I jot this down you will be sixteen…….SIXTEEN! 

Maybe you will make it to this milestone, maybe not, today's accident was just a bit too rich of a diet. There is nothing seriously wrong, no terminal condition, just the calendar ticking away. As long as you are happy and still doing well, sixteen can come and go and we will just keep trucking along, living and enjoying life. 

I do fully understand what an ‘embarrassment of riches’ is now. Your mom and I, have had plenty of good fortune and though misfortune has seemed  to cast a longer shadow at times. We still have had many fortunes, but an ‘embarrassment of riches', that has been you. I teased your brother and your mom and the two babies that you are the best dog, because it is true. I understand the old phrase and feel it, as you are still here. Still here, still happy and still you and while most of the time I feel lucky, there are so many times I feel guilty to be so blessed. 

Almost all the pups you knew when you were young have left us, we mourned with their people. The friends we made because of you and their pups have long since said their goodbyes to the pieces of them that brought us together, but I still get to have you and for that I feel guilty. I never felt guiltier though that I still had the pup who chose me, when the pup who chose mom was stolen by cancer you were still here, a little more tired, but still here, still happy and I felt guilty that we had you and he was gone. Mom and I both asked for you to give us at least one more year as our shattered hearts could not bear losing another too soon. You have given us two and half and counting and we are so grateful. 

You are the last one standing of the originals and for that I feel gratitude and guilt over our good fortune.

We were twenty-seven when we brought you home, to our first home and we had just been married for five years, we’re forty-three now, in our second home and just celebrated our 21st year of marriage.It is amazing and while I hoped, I never expected to have you this long. You saw me through job loss and underemployment and times I did not know if we would make it through unscathed. You have also seen us through countless walks, fetch sessions, celebrations, and when we brought home our ‘two legged puppy’. I thought when we came home that he would only know you through our memories, and while he says he remembers your brother, I know those memories are faded, but you, he will remember. I joke about the pain that was caused when he stole you and you started choosing him over me, but in reality I smile as I know he is our last ‘patient’ together and you are just keeping your eye on him and supporting him, even if it's just with a look as your legs don’t allow you to keep up anymore.

I can’t remember the last time your legs and body allowed you to keep up, any better than I remember that twenty-seven year old me who brought you home. I can’t remember the last time you wanted to play fetch or the last time you slept in our bed at my feet. I can’t remember the last time you beat me to the door to greet me before I went to find you. I can’t remember the last time I knew you heard my voice. I remember those versions of you, but I cannot remember when they left. Bruse Cameron wrote, “When you adopt a dog, you have a lot of very good days and one very bad day.” Your brother left us too soon, and I was heartbroken and angry and he was this quote.  I cannot be angry when it is your time and Mr. Cameron’s quote doesn't really  apply to you, but so very few people are given the opportunity to see an amazing dog slowly fade due to time, it is both a blessing and a curse.  We have been given that time and time has not been stolen, but it does not ease the heartbreak and I am not sure what is best, sudden and rapid like your brother or losing pieces over a long time. Both are awful and my heart wants neither as the end of the story, just more of the middle and the story to never end.

I look for you now, it usually does not take long and I stand over you waiting to hear your breathe, have you look up, or see your chest move as I want to see if between the last time I saw you and now if you have left before my hand discovers it, if that should that be the way you leave us. I can’t remember the last time I came home or got up in the morning, and I was not a little afraid you were gone. Today, might not be the day, nor tomorrow or the next, there is nothing terminally wrong with you, but the date on the calendar and with each passing day you continue to defy the odds. It's not today, but I know that day is coming.

I, we, cannot ask you for anything more, you have served our community, been there for us in good times and bad, helped us stitch together the pieces when cancer stole your brother from us. You don’t owe us anything, you have taught me more than I ever taught you and I should not ask for more, but I can’t help it. You have been thirty-seven percent of my life and sixty-four percent of my adult life, asking you is only natural. 

How am I going to do it when the day comes? I will make it through, life has taught me that, but how am I going to be without you? How will I be strong enough to let you go? How will I be strong enough to support your mom? How will I be strong enough for our boy? Will I be strong enough to show him it's ok to grieve, it's ok to fall apart a bit and this is how you can rebuild? Will I be strong enough to give room for his grief when I know mine will be overwhelming? 

Today is not the day, but I feel its presence coming and I am afraid, as I cannot recall what life was like before you and I cannot imagine life after you're gone.

Sometimes......

Personal information obtained on therapy visits is confidential. When applicable the name/location/sex/condition of persons visited may be changed to protect privacy. However, the interactions, conversations are true and did occur as written. 

Gopher, Squirrel, Chad, and Carla are all volunteers. They do not officially represent any institution that may be mentioned.

Sometimes it’s a pedicure…pawticure…

We don’t do costumes; we don’t play dress up with either of the Brothers Rodent.  Not only is it not allowed per our registering organization, we have always felt it takes away from the dog more than it ever adds.

There is one exception, will it help the patient? Will doing this help our patients and even for a moment bring them joy? As long as it will not do any harm, and it helps we do allow a few exceptions.

This is what happened a few weeks ago while visiting. It has happened before but courtesy of publicly available images given out by the facility we can share with you Gopher getting his pawticure?

Enjoy:

A Parents' Joy

Personal information obtained on therapy visits is confidential. When applicable the name/location/sex/condition of persons visited may be changed to protect privacy. However, the interactions, conversations are true and did occur as written. 

Gopher, Squirrel, Chad, and Carla are all volunteers. They do not officially represent any institution that may be mentioned.

I have often heard that a parent’s joy comes from seeing their children smile. Having never been a parent to humans, I am unable to confirm this. I also have been faced with the fear and apprehension of parents working through a difficult medical situation.  I have experienced it countless time holding on to Gopher’s leash and a couple times on the other end with my own niece.

Add into the fear and apprehension a reasonably upset and angry child. A child, who does not understand what’s going on, does not feel well and nothing can be done as a parent to soothe or provide comfort. The sky is falling and all you have is a broken umbrella, the desperation has to be among the most difficult parents face.

One young patient not that long ago was just like that. No smiles, not even for a moment, upset, uncomfortable, confused and frustrated. His anger was nearly palpable.  He was just getting ready to leave his room and head to surgery when the staff had us pause for a moment.

They told us what was going on, and they hoped the boys might help.

Gopher and Squirrel were in the hall as they moved equipment around and the young boy came out of the room in his wheel chair.

Both Squirrel and Gopher waited patiently in the hall getting the “oohs and awws” of passersby. The chair rolled up and both boys were on their game. A few light pats and there it was a smile, albeit brief before they rushed off to surgery. The boys had done their job and the parents were able to see the first smile in sometime on their sons face.

He Sat Alone....

Personal information obtained on therapy visits is confidential. When applicable the name/location/sex/condition of persons visited may be changed to protect privacy. However, the interactions, conversations are true and did occur as written. 

Gopher, Squirrel, Chad, and Carla are all volunteers. They do not officially represent any institution that may be mentioned.

He sat alone.

His eyes fixed on a point on the other side of the room, and only he could tell us.

This was a group visiting situation, and Gopher and I had arrived at the spot and began visiting with the various residents that were waiting for us at our standard spot.

His gaze shifted to Gopher, and an observant nurse noticed. She leaned over and asked if he wanted to visit the dog. Nothing, no affirmation nor was there a refusal. She did what many a caretaker has done, and said why don’t push you over. He is very gentle and if you do not wish to pet him, you do not have to. Once again she was met with silence, and no acknowledgment.

As she wheeled him over his gaze stayed on Gopher and as he got closer his head moved for the first time so he could watch him. There was no fear or apprehension in his gaze, he was just focused.

Gopher got up and separated himself from the group that was pining over him and went to sit by the chair. The gaze followed.

As he arrived at the chair, he sat down and leaned into the chair. Fortunately the caretaker had set the brakes. The gaze was still upon him and as he leaned a sparkle in the eye of his new patient greeted him.

His hand rose gently with a light tremor, he reached down and began stroking his side. Gopher leaned in harder, and everyone watched as our new guest and Gopher became the only thing in the room of interest.

The moments passed, while the two new friends became better acquainted. Gopher returned his gaze with the affectionate brown eyes I have had the privilege seeing so many times, staring back in the man’s now sparkling eyes as they had a silent conversation.

“You are very handsome” the man said to Gopher barely audible to the crowd now watching.

A gasp from a few spectators, behind me broke the focus on the interaction and the room fell silent again.

He started telling Gopher the story of his life. The dogs he had, his parents, his wife, and their kids. 

He reflected heavily on the last few years, how slowly things had started being taken away from him.

His ability to sleep through the night, as he was awoken by the need to pee, or the soreness of his aching muscles.

His home where they raised their kids, because they could no longer afford to care for it, and no longer had the ability.

Being able to hit the open road, and how he missed taking off on adventures with his wife to see something new.

Most recently his wife, one night they were there in their apartment, saddened but had spent the evening talking about their blessings. Then he awoke in the middle of the night, needing to pee, and when he came back he realized he was alone and she was gone.

How after the services the world kept moving, but he just stopped, and then he was here.

He stopped telling his story and continued to pet Gopher.

After a few minutes, he asked the nurse if she could take him back to his room.

Then said, “I think I am ready to see the doctor now, can he come by?”

The nurse and him started talking about the next steps, as they wheeled off in the distance. Gopher had returned to his group and was even more surrounded with hearty pets, and even a few kisses.

Another resident placed her hand on my shoulder. “He has not spoken since he arrived, not in group, not to anyone, not even in the night when some others choose to speak when they think no one is listening. He has not said a word. Gopher is amazing.”

I smiled and said the same thing I have said a hundred times, “He is happy to help.”

Squirrel!!

Personal information obtained on therapy visits is confidential. When applicable the name/location/sex/condition of persons visited may be changed to protect privacy. However, the interactions, conversations are true and did occur as written. 

Gopher, Squirrel, Chad, and Carla are all volunteers. They do not officially represent any institution that may be mentioned.

Squirrels turn.  The glass of the room Carla and Squirrel were assigned allowed them to see the family and staff in the room as they approached. The illness was not known but given the location of the room and familiarity with the facility it was known that the patient had been on a difficult road.

When Squirrel and Carla came to the room the small figure in the bed seemed to be encapsulated by the equipment that was helping him. He was small frail and seemed oblivious to his surroundings. Mom, dad and nurse surrounded him attempting to get him to acknowledge them.  The patient remained still and would have been seen as lifeless had it not been for the ECG that told a different story.

“Joey, there’s a dog here to see you.”

There was still no response.

The excited family showed Carla into the room. “Joey, there’s a dog here to see you.”

This time, the news of dog seemed to pierce its way through the fog of pain, medication and illness.

The motionless limbs a moment before now attempted to move as his face turned. A huge smile filled his face as his half opened eyes tried to take in the dog that was before him. The muscles seemed to betray him in his efforts to reach Squirrel and despite being motionless a few moments before his parents had to struggle a bit to keep him in bed.

Carla had to find a way to make it easier, with his size and the amount of equipment there was little space. She knelt down on the floor on a single knee and gave Squirrel the ‘Up” command to get him to place his paws on her knees so he could get within reach of the patient in the bed.  She had trained this, but this was the first time she had attempted in a visit. Despite being in relatively good shape from years of Search and Rescue training it became obvious that with the weight of a 65 lb Golden Retriever resting on her thigh additional lunges would need to be added to her fitness repertoire.

The family that was present was astounded by Joey’s response. Moments before they had been struggling to breakthrough, and now a smiling patient laid in the bed attempting to pet Squirrel.

Carla and Squirrel bid their farewells, his job done and an overly grateful family left behind.

A few weeks later Squirrel and Carla would get the opportunity to see Joey, this time with Gopher and myself. He had left the bed behind and was walking the hall with equipment still attached and the aid of a walker. More mobile, but his face showed a look of sheer determination. Once he saw the boys though a smile filled his face, his eyes danced with joy and he came over to be near them and pet them. It is not often the boys visit the same patient at the same time in the hospital, but there in the middle of the hall they would go through their “Who is the better therapy dog competition.” Squirrel clearly won, this time, claiming Joey as his very own patient.

What is a therapy visit?

Personal information obtained on therapy visits is confidential. When applicable the name/location/sex/condition of persons visited may be changed to protect privacy. However, the interactions, conversations are true and did occur as written. 

Gopher, Squirrel, Chad, and Carla are all volunteers. They do not officially represent any institution that may be mentioned.

Volunteers who work as a team for Animal Assisted Therapy and Animal Assisted Activities spend a great deal of time training themselves and their animal partners. When done correctly it is the perfect representation of the human-non human animal bond. Furthermore it has a tremendous effect on the patients in need, this has been proved time and again in academic literature.

Here are a few examples of the scientific work that has proven the benefits.

The Effects of Animal-Assisted Therapy on Anxiety Ratings of Hospitalized Psychiatric Patients

Effects of Animal-Assisted Therapy on Patients' Anxiety,Fear, and Depression Before ECT

The Effects of Animal-Assisted Therapy on Loneliness in anElderly Population in Long-Term Care Facilities

Animal-Assisted Therapy in Patients Hospitalized With HeartFailure

The proven benefits are often missed by the public, health care administrators and even the team themselves. They just see it as something fun to do, and a nice way to give back which is also true.

What is a therapy visit though?

It is simply the only two gifts you can truly give someone, time and love.

I would also argue that the return benefit for the handler, is equal to or even greater than the team to the patient.

This last week has been difficult professionally for this handler, add into this the typical stresses of a lower income middle class family when the dollar does not seem to stretch far enough, I was at the end of my proverbial rope. I would say I was also just barely hanging on to the last fiber of hemp in that rope.

Monday night arrived with a special request. Visit a long term patient. Time to go, get up, be with my boy, my wife and her partner, and spend some of my favorite family time.

When we arrived we found not only our long term patient, but another patient we had seen several times before. Both showed the obvious signs of prolonged illness and prolonged treatment. Some are discomforted by this, but after so many years as a working team and not being a father of human children I find interacting with ‘normal’ kids more difficult.

The room descended quickly into laughter. Hugs and countless pets for each of the boys, both of whom were in rare form with the excitement of seeing a patient whom they love visiting.

The evening passed, and despite appearances, signs of prolonged illness, the beeping of medical equipment and kids attached to hardware, the room was only filled with joy and love in those moments.

Our time together had come to an end for now and we left. Each of us feeling a little more energetic, a much needed refill of joy and love. The boys as you can see in the pictures below, a little ‘brighter’ as well, at least their nails were.

 

So do yourself a favor, love your dog, cat, rabbit or gerbil……..train them.....it will only make your bond with them stronger. Take a therapy animal training class…..learn all you can….become a team. It is hard work, it is emotional, it is the best feeling you can have. It allows you to give the only true gift you can give, time and love. The benefits to the patients has been proved by scientists, the benefits it will give to you…..well you will just have to take me at my word.